


for you? anything

by sure sure (getoffmysheets)



Series: Red in Tooth and Claw [11]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Billy Hargrove Needs Love, Confused Steve Harrington, Cute Steve Harrington, Daemons, M/M, Soft Billy Hargrove, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, dumb boys falling in love, okay Soft(er)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:15:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21543616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/getoffmysheets/pseuds/sure%20sure
Summary: His love is torturing her because he can’t throw it away.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove & Maxine "Max" Mayfield, Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington
Series: Red in Tooth and Claw [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1508453
Comments: 21
Kudos: 219





	for you? anything

She thought that she was ready, she thought she would know what she should expect when she walked into the room, but as soon as she sees him, the room seems to spin. Behind her, Steve and Robin watch from the doorway, waiting to help if it seemed like she couldn’t handle this.

“Shitbird,” he rasps faintly, turning his head and staring at her with his blue, blue eyes. Her chin wobbles, because that is _Billy_ , that is his _voice_.

She doesn’t know what to do, how to react, just stands there and cries and stares at him, unable to wrap her mind around it. After weeks of trying to get herself used to a world where her brother no longer existed, here he is.

Then Freyja grabs Pal in her jaws by the scruff of the neck and plops him between her forepaws, grooms him with her raspy tongue the way she had nearly every day they’d known each other. Her purr is a familiar, teeth-shaking vibration that warms them to the bone.

Billy makes a startled sound when she falls across his chest, and Max is doing the kind of crying you do where you can’t make any noise because your whole body’s energy is being put into producing as many tears as quickly as humanly possible.

( _She knows that he is dying, that they are both dying – she wants Billy to be able to die with her beside him, but Steve never looks sadder than when he tells Max that they can’t move her. She and Billy tried to fight off the Mindflayer, but it shattered Freyja’s hindlegs in retaliation. She won’t be able to get up, and touching her…_

_Not only does Steve not have permission, but pouring any of his emotions into Billy, good or bad, while he’s this close to death will only make him die that much faster._

_Freyja’s head lolls toward her and her green-gold eyes peer up at Max. Pallas tries to burrow against her, as though with enough love and willpower, they could stop them from dying. “You were ours,” Freyja murmurs in her throaty voice, just loud enough for Max to her. “You know that right? You were always our girl.”_

_“Don’t go,” she sobs. “Please don’t go away.”_

_“It’s alright, Maxine.” Her eyes are closing, and Max knows what’s happening, but she doesn’t want to believe it. “Everything will be alright.”_

_“No, no, no,” she pleads. “You’re-you’re strong enough to survive this! You both are.”_

_On the level below, Billy is staring into El’s eyes and her mind can feel him dying all around her, and she knows that he isn’t really talking to her when he whispers, “I’m sorry.”_

_Freyja’s body becomes dust as Max reaches for her, nothing remaining of her beloved companion for the past eight years but fine golden sand and some half-broken jewelry. El lets out a soft sound of dismay as Billy’s life slips away from her. Beside her, Brigantia howls. She will howl much longer and much louder when they realize that Hopper and Andy have not returned_.)

“Shitbird,” he says again, his shirt soaked through as Max just loses it all over again. “C’mon, it’s okay. Everything will be alright.”

This time, Max and Pal actually believe them.

\---

Even though he’s apparently been sleeping for a month, Billy feels really tired. Max says that’s because the Upside Down drains all the brightness from everything – that’s good, he thought he was going colorblind because he’s pretty sure Freyja used to be sand-colored and not this weird dirty snow gray.

“What is this place?” Steve and his little sailor girlfriend, the blond with the big ugly bat daemon, have left the doorway now. He would say he was in some kind of hotel, but this place was way too nice for that.

Max, who has barely taken her eyes away from Billy’s face (it was really starting to creep him out), looks almost guilty. “Um…this is Steve’s house. I told him not to bring you back home and they – uh, Steve and Jonathan and Nancy – they said if they brought you to the hospital, the government mighy start poking at you. Because of the whole…” She waved her hands around. “The Upside Down.”

“The Upside Down?” Billy says slowly.

“The place that we were in,” Freyja rumbles, headbutting his side. “During. After. Before?”

There’s a frown in her voice. Uneasily, Billy replies “All of them. I think.”

His mind gets stuck then, like a fly in a trap. Stuck on the gelatinous goo that was once made of human bodies. The constant tearing pain of Freyja being farther away than she should be. The horrible burn of sitting out in the midday sun, usually a feeling that gave him some measure of comfort, but it made him sick to his stomach. Heather Holloway, pleading for her life, a life he didn’t have the power to spare, though god knew he tried. Max, tearful and frightened, pleading for Billy to come back to himself. The little girl that creature was hunting, her determination and fury, which slowly became fear and then outright terror as he dragged her to the meet the fate of the others.

And always, overreaching it all, was the oppressive sensation of misery and rage that the Shadow forced upon him. The terrible cloud of helplessness and shame that he didn’t have the strength to fight. Until she helped him.

“That little girl,” he says hoarsely. “The one you’re friends with. Is she okay?”

“El?” she asks, startled. “Yeah, she’s fine. She just got her dad back, otherwise she’d probably be here right now.”

“El?” He blinks. “Eleven.”

“Uh…” Max and Pal look at each other. “Yeah. I’m not gonna ask how you know that.” She fidgets. “Anyway, I know you probably don’t wanna stay with Steve but…please, just stay here, Billy. Just…until we can figure out something else.”

He stares at her, dumbfounded. Short of the shadow creature taking over his body again or Neil Hargrove walking in at this very moment, he couldn’t think of anything he wanted less. “What makes you think Harrington wants me hanging around his house, Maxine?”

“He was the one who suggested it!” she squawks defensively. Max doesn’t quite have the courage to admit to him that Steve is the one she talks to when she’s really missing him. She’s a bit afraid to tell him she’s been talking to Steve about him. What she’d really like are some encouraging words from Freyja.

But Freyja seems to be half-hiding behind Billy’s back, like they’re scared of something. It makes Max even more determined to keep him here, away from Neil and away from the reality that dozens of people in Hawkins are dead and they probably died with the help of Billy’s own hands.

“I think he’s kinda lonely,” she says instead, which is definitely not something she would’ve told him four weeks ago. Max resists the urge to grimace. It’s sort of messing with her mind because her thoughts and opinions about the two of them have changed rapidly in the past month, but they most likely still hate each other and this whole situation has become wildly confusing for her.

Billy snorts, his posture still tense. “Yeah, whatever.”

The response was rude but Max hears the concession in his words and knows that Billy won’t be leaving this house.

“Hey, are you guys hungry?” Steve asks, popping his head through the doorway and avoiding looking at Billy directly.

“Uh, sure,” Max says slowly, when Billy doesn’t answer.

Freyja is still attempting to hide behind him, despite her enormous size, and her ears are ticked back to an unhappy set. Max’s stomach twists with guilt. She didn’t intend to make them feel this uncomfortable, but she honestly can’t figure out any better solution. She has no idea what Neil will do if Billy turns up back home a month after his ‘death’ and he needs a place to rest and sleep.

He may not have a scratch on him, but there’s something quiet and hollow about Billy’s demeanor now. It may be true that Steve is lonely, but Billy is the one she doesn’t feel good about leaving by himself. Freyja is this weird silvery color since they came back and doesn't seem to be turning back to her sandy fawn color, though her eyes seem to be the right shade.

“I saved most of your records,” she was telling him, as Steve silently put a plate of sandwiches down on the end of the bed, Artemis trotting cautiously at his heels. “The Camaro was taken to the junkyard, though. I’m sorry.”

“Ain’t your fault,” Billy mutters. He reaches behind him without turning his head and fists his hand around the loose fur at Freyja’s neck, forcing her to lay down and stop her nervous fidgeting.

“Uh…” Steve says in a guilty tone and points out the guestroom window.

Max darts to the other side of the bed, gasping when she sees the familiar shape parked behind Steve’s garage and covered in a bright blue tarp. “Is that…?”

Sheepishly, he rubs the back of his neck and admits “It was supposed to be a surprise. I was saving it for you. For when you get your license in a year or two.”

Billy was frowning. “She’s totaled, ain’t she?”

“Uh…” he says again, even more sheepish. “It was sorta my fault that it got totaled to begin with. I really only ended up paying for the body work, anyway. Jonathan was able to figure out a lot of the actual mechanical problems. It was just dents and new paint after that.”

Gleeful, Max gloms onto Steve, hugging him around the middle before taking Pal out to marvel at the restored Camaro.

“Uh…thanks, I guess,” Billy mutters, glaring at the bedspread. Freyja has gone back to pacing and cowering behind him and he doesn’t even bother pretending to stop her this time.

The two of the freeze when the Aussie bitch hops right up to the bed and stares at them. Distantly, Billy notes that even Steve looks surprised by this.

Bold as anything, the bitch goes right up to Freyja. Billy can feel her shivering against his back. _What if she bites me again, Billy?_

They both feel a phantom burn of pain along the front of their body, around their throats and Billy suddenly remembers that Freyja is no longer wearing the armor of her golden collar.

The bitch _doesn’t_ bite her.

Abruptly, the Aussie dog crouches in front of Freyja, fluffy tag wagging furiously, and then gives an excited playful bark. Billy stares at her incredulously and then looks up at Steve, who is flushed with embarrassment. "Stop that!" he hisses at his daemon, scooping the dog off the bed. "Don't bully her!"

_My boy protected me,_ Freyja tells Billy, practically swooning with infatuation. 

_No, he's embarrassed that his bitch is flirting with us,_ resisting the urge to start swooning himself.

"I was just trying to be friendly," the dog protests with an adorable little whine. "You always complain that I never talk to anyone!"

It's the first time they’re hearing more than three words from her, and her speech makes Steve look even more startled. Apparently interacting with others _really_ isn’t a thing she does. Billy wishes he knew her actual fricking name. He bet it was something super snooty, like Aphrodite or Cleopatra.

"You weren't talking," Steve counters, subconsciously echoing her whiny tone, making a swift retreat from the room, milk white skin revealing his neon-sign blush for anyone to see. "You were trying to jump all over her like a dork!"

Freyja is equal parts nervous at the idea of being around a dog, and excited about getting the notoriously aloof Aussie daemon's attention.

“Maybe they want to be our friend!” she whispers in his ear, a tiny shivery thrill going through them.

“He still can’t touch you,” he reminds her, more stilted in his enthusiasm. “The moment I’m connected to him, we’re screwed.”

“I know,” she says, a little mournful. “But isn’t it worth it, to have them, even such a small piece of them?”

Billy doesn’t know how to answer that.

\---

Late at night, they sometimes hear something. A soft low song coming from downstairs. It isn’t until the third night that Freyja whispers “It’s her, Billy. She’s singing to him.”

Even if Billy didn’t feel compelled to get closer, he’d would have no choice – Freyja is practically dragging him down the hall toward Steve and the dog daemon. They are somewhere near the kitchen, the smell of melting cheese and tomato sauce filling the air.

“…let me give my life to you,” the bitch croons. “Let me drown in your laughter, let me die in your arms…”

Billy sits down hard on the front steps, because Steve’s daemon doesn’t just sing to emit a melody, she sings as though they’re feeling a real emotion, surges with a quiet fervor through every word and note. “…let me always be with you. Come let me love you, come love me again…”

He listens to her and feels silently shattered, Freyja purring in comfort for him against his side because it isn’t for them, she doesn’t sing _to them_ , but when he hears her, that ain’t how it _feels_.

Steve, so casually, like he doesn’t notice how passionately his own soul expresses herself, says “You’re in some kinda mood tonight.”

He sounds almost amused. Billy wants to shake him, to hit him _– how can you care this little about everything?_!!, he wants to scream.

“Maybe you’re feeling romantic,” the Aussie dog teases back, an almost seductive lilt to her voice.

“I am?” Steve asks mildly, startling Billy. Because he asks her that like he really does not know. Like he needs her to tell him what they’re experiencing. She hums an affirmative noise and Steve sounds almost like he’s frowning when he asks “Do you miss Celestis? You never spoke to him.”

The Wheeler girl’s daemon, Freyja supplies to him helpfully.

Airily, the Aussie says “Celestis wasn’t interested in anything I had to say.”

“You like Mithra.”

“Mithra is nice,” she says, mimicking his mild tone.

“That’s it?”

That little musical affirmative hum again.

“You wanted to talk to Freyja.”

Billy’s heart leaps up into his throat and he finds himself hugging his cougar tight.

“Max and Pal say she’s nice.” She sounds almost like she’s pouting. “I don’t think she wants to talk to me, though.”

“Billy doesn’t like me,” Steve points out, and Billy tucks his face into the gray fur along Freyja’s back, wicking his silent tears into her coat. “Of course she doesn’t want to talk to you.”

\---

There’s supposed to be a big celebration, a barbecue and fireworks in the Byers backyard. “You don’t have to go, if you don’t want to,” Steve says, watching Billy closely without trying to look like he’s watching him at all. “But it’s sort of a party for…y’know, you.”

Billy is a ghost that lives in his house. He makes no noise and leaves no presence and if not for the food that occasionally disappears from the pantry and the fridge, Steve would never know that he was there. Even Freyja seems to have become a phantom of herself, the golden sand hue of her fur washed down to a ticked gray that was almost even more striking. Beautiful and almost haunting to see.

Billy gives a humorless snort, but he says “Okay.”

He’s very quiet throughout the whole event, but Steve doesn’t have a sincere moment of worry until after the food and the fireworks, when the night has wound down and everyone is just kind of laying around in the yard. Robin has been chattering in his ear for over half an hour – Steve suspects that Jonathan brought her a ‘special’ brownie – and Mithra suddenly flops onto his stomach, more awkward when grounded than he is in the air.

“Hey buddy,” he says softly, cupping him with a warm hand. He strokes the fragile membranes of his wings. Steve isn’t sure he’s ever felt about someone the way he feels for Robin – Mithra is so obviously vulnerable, even as Robin is so clever and ferociously competent. It makes him want to protect them. They are the opposite in every way, and if Robin can be there to crack Russian codes, he can be there to protect her from Russian interrogators.

_Best friend_ , she tells him through her bond with Mithra _. I’ve never had a best friend._

Steve thinks back to becoming Keg King standing next to Carol, or trolling for hot girls with Tommy. He’s had cohorts, cronies, accomplices. _Neither have I_.

A horrible, growling yell pierces the air, making everyone in the yard jump. Steve has heard that scream before and looks around wildly, only to find Billy standing in the dark. He has a hand grabbing Freyja hard by the scruff of the neck, speaking to her, low and urgent. He looks almost frightened, his eyes wide as he hisses at her.

Steve makes excuses for them and they’re sequestered back in his house within an hour – Freyja’s never made a scene like that, even when he’d seen Billy at his angriest, the cougar daemon never seemed to lose her cool unless and until she was physically harmed. Even as they walked into the front door, her tail was lashing furiously and Billy still looked almost terrified.

“Wanna watch a movie?” Even if Billy hates his guts, Steve is hoping that maybe the mere truth that they don’t have to be completely alone will be enough to soothe them.

Billy mumbles a yes, and he feels a little triumphant for a moment. The den has two couches, and Steve lets him take the bigger one, since Freyja is so large. He’s hoping that Billy won’t feel too crowded this way, even if his cougar daemon is behaving in such an uneasy manner.

He really does mean to stay awake and keep an eye on them the whole night, but at four a.m., Billy doesn’t look any more likely to sleep than he did at midnight, and Steve’s eyes stay closed for longer and longer, until they won’t stay open at all.

\---

Billy sees him, stroking Buckley’s ugly little bat daemon, and a wave of helpless anger washes over him. Steve is so soft and intimate with him that it makes his stomach sour – but he isn’t expecting Freyja to have a reaction, and that scares him more than his own out of control wrath ever did.

“He’s my boy,” Freyja sobs, bitter and furious as Billy tries to keep her from venting her rage again. “He’s _mine_ , Billy, but they all get to have him!”

“I’m sorry,” Billy whispers, even more helpless. He never intended to make her bear the burden of this – but Harrington has shown maybe not _them_ , but _her_ , his kindness, and whatever infatuation he felt had become a wild jealousy in her. Subconsciously, his hands touched her the way he had. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to put this on you.”

It’s a strange feeling to have their roles so reversed – that he now has to hold Freyja back from her fury and her jealousy while Billy soothes her. His love is torturing her because he can’t throw it away, even when she’s the one to suffer for it. He doesn’t allow his relief or his trepidation show when Steve asks if they want to go back home now.

She paces around him during the first movie, but calms down during the second when it’s clear that Steve won’t be leaving them tonight.

Billy indulges himself in watching him sleep from the opposite couch, hugging the fluffy little bitch to his chest, cheek pillowed on his arm. It doesn’t occur to him until she hops right up onto his jean-clad ankles that she was never asleep herself.

“Billy,” she says, blinking her ice blue eyes at him.

“Little girl,” he greets uncertainly, wondering where the hell this was going, his name in her mouth like a shock to the system.

  
She blinks, stunned briefly. “Oh. My name is Artemis,” she says sweetly. “You can call me Artie, if you like. Steve does.”

“Little _huntress_ ,” he drawls, correcting himself, brows shooting upwards. “What can I do for you?”

She – Artemis, he thought with private pleasure, the little huntress – looks quite pleased with this moniker. Boldly, she rests her chin on one of his knees and Billy suppresses a tremor. “I suppose it feels unfair,” she says casually, “That Steve touched Freyja without asking you.”

She couldn’t have alarmed him more if she’d literally given him an electric shock. “…yeah,” he says slowly. “It does. Ain’t supposed to do that. But I suppose she asked for it herself, in a way.”

Then she says something that makes him feel like he _HAS_ gotten an electric shock, still like butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth, “You could touch me.”

Immediately, Billy’s eyes dart over to Steve, sleeping open-mouthed on the sofa across from him, drooling onto the pillow. “I…that’s…”

Her paw presses against his leg, drawing his eyes back to her. Artemis murmurs “I’m asking, Billy.” Her ears fall slightly. “Unless you don’t want to.”

"That probably won't make Harrington too happy."

Again, she almost seems to flirt with them, her voice almost seductive, head lowered to look at him through her lashes. "I can keep a secret."

His hand has a shameful tremble in it as he reaches toward her. Artemis is either eager or impatient and thrusts her head beneath his outstretched hand, whining gently and-

It’s true that every person contains a complex world that cannot be seen by the naked eye. But Steve Harrington is hiding entire galaxies beneath his skin, and laying over that skin is a thick armor made of nothing but his devotion. And oh, that devotion is vast, vast and shimmering and deep as the purest ocean. Undaunted by adversity and unchanged by flaws or doubts.

And within that wild and soothing sea, the titanium-strong adoration that was their sword and shield, is a candle.

Quietly and out of the way, so that he never quite let himself to look straight at it, is a soft flame that Steve never allows to die, and it burns for Billy Hargrove.

Max’s grief had only made it that much stronger, her faith in her dead brother letting him silently feed the flame even as it gave him no comfort or satisfaction. Steve did not believe that Billy was a good person, but he had an unshakeable belief that he _could_ be, if he gave it a shot.

“Billy,” Artie croons, her wet nose upon his neck. He sobs silently, shoulders shaking, but couldn’t make himself stop stroking her fluffy patched fur. “It’s alright, Billy. We won’t leave you.”

Because no one has ever loved Billy this way, believed in him this way. Without fear or regret or hesitation. With no expectation but that his love be allowed to exist as it was, quietly sheltered and tended within the rage and power of Steve’s adoration. And Steve doesn’t even know that it’s there.

“You just have to be patient,” she whispers in his arms, when Billy has calmed down. “Please. Can you be patient with him?”

“For you?” Billy asks with a crooked grin that’s a little bit of an act, and she knows he isn’t just talking about her. “I can do anything, little huntress.”


End file.
